


Philophobia

by Nightmaresandsugar (CyanideSerpents)



Category: Split (2016)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Trauma, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Multi, Original Character(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protect At All Costs, best friend hedwig
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 22:27:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15519993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyanideSerpents/pseuds/Nightmaresandsugar
Summary: Philophobia, the fear of falling in love.Nova never wanted to be kidnapped, never even wanted to be born actually.Blue eyes have a funny way of changing things.





	Philophobia

Chapter One: Neophobia

 

_If the end of the universe could be coalesced into a single moment, it would be the second the cold, smooth metal of the loaded pistol pressed below her jaw._

 

_Even the simple shifting of her arm to raise the gun caused her inflamed nerves to howl their disagreement. Her raw, inflamed flesh dripped with fresh blood, creating a mess below her that the girl knew would only earn her more time in the closet._

 

_The front door of the dingy apartment suddenly slammed open, as did the girl’s silver eyes. Her mother wasn’t due home for another hour at least, she had calculated this perfectly!_

 

_A second set of footsteps and her mother’s high-pitched, false giggling clued the girl in to what had happened. There was a man in her house. And she was in her mother’s bedroom. A crimson finger tightened on the trigger of the gun, nearly forgotten in her momentary terror._

 

_If the beginning of the universe could be coalesced into a single moment, it would be the second the furious, alcohol-reddened face of her mother realized it was staring down the barrel of her own weapon, and slowly morphed into terror._

 

_~_ **_B A N G_ ** _~_

 

    Nova jolted awake, her head coming up from her arms, disoriented by the return of nightmares that she thought she had chased away long ago. Shaking her head sharply to dispel the lingering fear - ‘ _Post Traumatic Stress Disorder,’ whispered the voice of her psychiatrist -_ she looked around to discover what had made the sudden, loud noise that had roused her from her - _memories -_ nightmare.

 

    She found her friend, Claire Benoit, leaning over Nova’s seat, her right hand on the book that she had seemingly just slammed down on the table.

 

    “Wake up, nerd!” She giggled, placing a hand on Nova’s shoulder and giving her a friendly shake. As Claire moved to pick up the book, Nova noticed Marcia hovering a few steps behind the blonde girl. That was fine, they had never really gotten along.

 

    “Sorry, did I miss anything?” Nova quickly rubbed the sleep from her eyes, quietly thanking herself for being too exhausted coming home from work to put on makeup before rushing to her friend’s birthday party. Free food, right?

 

    “Well, you’re riding shotgun because Casey’s car broke down, or whatever,” she replied, side-eying Marcia, who had suddenly become very interested in something on her phone. “Also,” She leaned conspiratorially closer to Nova, not noticing how the girl flinched back in response. “Would you mind helping us bring the food and gifts to the car? My dad always says he can handle it but he’s always complaining that his back really hurts him.”

 

    “No problem.” Replied Nova quietly, standing up and smoothing any crumbs off of her black turtleneck. “Just point me where to go.”

 

    The relief on the blonde’s face was palpable, just as an older male’s voice cut in.

 

    “Claire-Bear, I’ve got it! Nova, you don’t need to worry about it, I can handle everything just fine!” Claire’s father had appeared, teetering boxes stained with grease stacked in his arms. “You ladies can just go grab Casey and wait in the car for me, I won’t be long.”

 

    Nova shook out her waist length, electric blue hair and smiled at him.

 

    “Mr. Benoit, even though this is not your house, I am still technically an invited guest, please allow me to help you.” She had learned very early how to craft polite sentences to make someone listen to her, even if she came off extremely formal. It worked instantly, the man before her grinning widely before motioning with his chin to the boxes across from her on the table, wrapped in bows and glitter.

 

    “You are too sweet, Nova. If you could take a few of those, I would happily give you some of these to take home with you!” He nodded to the takeout boxes in his hands before turning to his daughter and her friend. As Nova began to calmly stack the presents in her arms, she heard Mr. Benoit stage whisper to Claire about trading her in and adopting Nova instead. She shared a secret smile with Marcia’s gift as she placed it on top of her own.

 

    As she turned to follow Mr. Benoit and the two popular girls, Casey fell in step beside her, Nova offering a nod and a soft smile to the dark haired girl. They often sat together - when Casey wasn’t in detention - because _\- they both knew pain -_ neither of them liked talking outside of meaningful glances and rolled up sleeves to clean wounds in the bathroom.

 

    They walked in silence to the car, Mr. Benoit directing Nova to place Claire’s gifts in the car before he began packing up the food. He unlocked the car doors for them before he began, tucking the keys back in his pocket with another grin at Nova.

 

    “Thank ye’ kindly for ye’ help young ‘un!” He exclaimed, tipping an invisible hat and winking at her. Nova offered him a smile before dusting off her sweater once more and pulling herself into the passenger’s seat of the car, watching in the rear-view mirror as Marcia and Claire leapt in the car, followed quickly by Casey, who quickly shut the door to fend off any chill.

 

    Looking up, Nova noted the sky had taken on a somber grey tone - _much like your eyes, Nova -_ and looked like it was about to start raining. She settled back in the seat and allowed her eyes to close, wondering if she could fit in another quick nap before having to go back to work.

 

    **Oh.** She had forgotten about her nightmare. She quickly pulled out her phone and began detailing an email to her psychiatrist when the car door to her left opened. She had to do a double take at who had entered the car.

 

    There was an awkward silence only punctuated by Claire attempting to communicate with the man staring straight forward, unfolding a yellow cloth in his lap. The dull ringing in Nova’s ears drowned everything out, bile rising in her throat.

 

    In a flash he had it pressed over his mouth and was spraying something into the open mouths of the three girls in the backseat. Nova watched in muted horror as they passed out, one by one.

 

    The man removed the yellow cloth from his mouth, adjusting his glasses, acting as if he hadn’t even seen her.

 

    **Move!** She howled at herself internally. **MOVE!** But she could not.

 

    The man glanced over suddenly and sighed, reaching for the cloth again. Nova’s hand closed over his softly and he looked up, startled, seemingly ready to force her.

 

    He was stunned by the sight of her pulling away the extra fabric of her scarf from around her neck, revealing an ugly scar stretching the length of her throat.

 

    “I’ve experienced that before,” she whispered quietly, something she’d never confessed to anyone before. “Please, I promise to sit quietly. Don’t use that on me.”

 

    Minutes passed as he stared at her, eyes unfocused as he seemed to have an internal battle. Finally he nodded. Nova released a breath she hadn’t known she was holding and sat back. His hands took the black scarf from her hands and brought it up to her face, his eyes suddenly cold.

 

    “Lean forward.” His voice was smooth and sent an icy shiver down her spine, but Nova complied, allowing him to blindfold her.

 

    Her muscles stayed tensed until she felt the car’s engine start.

 

    She was not used to people listening to what she asked of them.

   


End file.
